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Love Is Rope Made Of Air


Love is a bicycle toppling over a cliff into the grand canyon, laughing. Love is sexual innuendo, released on a DVD by Prince, love is a rotten trick dad played on mom's vagina, love is every card you turn, love is adore, tand a house without a house. Love is a bowling green of transcendent magnitude

Love is why cops in Denver raid the food pantry. Love is the only way Elmer can climb his way from the ghetto. Love is a tragedy, discussed most often at the Waterside AA Group. Love is fleshy cowgirl space pie rhubarb sandwich, love is frigid due to unemployment. Love climbs in at the mouth. Love is not in the spotlight, love is the spotlight

Love is an egg, and a legless worm. Love is never having to say the ploughman's lunch short-changed a ferris-wheel. Love is a scripture under the arm of a naked camel, love is forgiveness. Love is an organ I suck on with my teeth

Love is a rhino dressed as cheese-cake. Love is a bad season smothered in mushroom gravy. Love is what Johnson forgot at the meeting and then shot himself over in the parking garage. Love is the innocence'd ribcage

Love is a sucking-stick for Catholic schoolgirls. Love is my cousin's left testicle's third hair, twice removed. Love is why momma lost the war. Love is a bulging furnace of erotic donuts. Love is the lonely french fry. It's a wolf, in wolf's clothing, and it's a subtle unicorn

Love hits the Corinthians where they give. Love is blind eye to serial killers in the manicotti moonlight. It makes you feel famous

Scientists have recently discovered that love, which was previously thought to be a noun, has in fact always been a verb.

They say when you can catch vomit in mid-air you have won your MA in motherhood

Love is blessed virgin at the end of a jihad. Love is childish camouflage. Love is blade-runner in jester's boom-box of stars and lilies. It's blissfully unaware of the existence of feet

Love makes it hard to concentrate at work, because love is the work

Love doesn't care if you lose your job, and lose your house, and total your car. Love will drive forever through the pouring rain!

Love is not a church. But love sneaks in, and fucks there

Love is blissfully unaware of the existence of feet. It does however, have lonnng fingers

It makes you feel famous because you are! It sure is a bowling-green of transcendent magnitude

Love is the only war worth fighting

for love is our only homeland







jv

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Martin Marriott bests St. Paul, hitting the Corinthians where they live. Good show, mate.

Anna Montana said...

Love is a blind eye to the serial killer in the manicotti moonlight.

Anonymous said...

Love is a whore against a tree.

Anna Montana said...

Love is a bad season smothered in mushroom gravy.

martin marriott said...

Love is not a big defender of sane-sex marriages. Love is a big defender of insane-sex marriages.

Anonymous said...

Love makes me feel famous. A movie inside a movie. And movies make me feel like I want to be in love.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry, but my English is not very good. But the font is certainly pleasing to the eye.

Yet what about the burning issue of religion? Shouldn't this fellow be writing something about that?

Ah, religion! religion! It keeps me up all night! (I didn't mean that in a, you know, sexual way.)

I'll see what Benji thinks of it. His English is wetter than mine.
(I didn't mean wet in a, you know, sexual way.)

I have to stop. Some-one's coming.

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